Becoming A Father
by AgentJoanneMills
Summary: He's not sure how time flew past him so quickly.


He's not sure how time flew past him so quickly.

It's been years, but he still remembers the first time they met. She babbled then (as she often does, still) and he didn't know it yet but he was already smitten. Why else would he seek her out – again and again and again – despite the dangers their interactions pose?

Somewhere between the bullet-ridden laptop and the "sports drink" in a syringe, he knew he could trust her with his biggest secret.

(She's his drug, his own special brand of Vertigo, and that hasn't changed.)

Somewhere between her staying with the team (even though his stepfather's already safe) and caring enough for him to seek him out in the island, he knew he's already falling for her.

(She's never just a friend. She's always been more than that.)

And now they're married.

And she's pregnant with his child.

Never before had he been this terrified.

(It's a partial truth. He'd been scared before – when one of his youthful indiscretions supposedly bore fruit – but not to this extent.

This time he truly understands what's happening.

This time he _wants_ to be ready.)

It's troubling.

* * *

It's not that he doesn't want kids.

In fact, he's looking forward to having them, to building a family of his own. He's excited by the prospect of mini-hers or mini-hims running around.

He's confident that she'd make a really great mother.

But he's not so confident that he'd make at least a good father.

That's what's been eating him inside.

* * *

She told him that he looked like a hero when he first wore that mask. And with her staring at him like that – so happy and trusting and proud – he finally began feeling like one, too.

(She's his anchor, and that hasn't changed either.)

He struggles sometimes, and he thinks he's losing his touch. He can't quite manage the personas he has the way he used to. (His wife adamantly disagrees.)

He's Oliver Queen, CEO of Queen Consolidated.

He's the guy in the green hood, the Emerald Archer, the Green Arrow.

He's married to his executive assistant, his partner. His Felicity.

But soon he's going to be a father, and he doesn't know how to handle that.

* * *

He has many childhood memories. He remembers his father and mother. He remembers being happy.

But it's all founded on a mountain of lies, with pillars of deception and duplicity.

He doesn't want that for his child.

* * *

His wife's the one who usually does the research, but he can't very well ask her to look up _fatherhood_.

So on the rare time he's alone in the foundry (Dig's on Arrow duty with Roy and Sara's looking after Felicity in the penthouse) he boots up the spare PC and reads whatever he finds on the topic.

They all basically say the same thing: it's wonderful and it's something that would come naturally the minute he sees his child for the first time.

(He doesn't believe he's got anything remotely paternal in his genetic make-up, though.

It concerns him deeply.)

* * *

She's six and a half months in, and the pregnancy has amplified the glow she naturally possesses, and it's a worn-out line but he just falls in love with her more and more each day.

He tells her so, and she blushes because she still isn't used to receiving compliments from anyone especially him, and they spend the night thinking of names and planning for the child's nursery and imagining him/her (they want the child's sex to be a surprise) with the rest of Team Arrow.

And then she takes his hand and puts it on the bump and he feels him/her kick.

He jokes about him/her being a fighter already, and there's pride in his voice, and he doesn't realize it yet but at that moment – at that moment – he's already being a father.

She smiles at hims softly, like he just solved a particularly difficult problem and she's glad he did.

"You're going to be great," she says, and there is no doubt in her tone.

He swallows – his throat is dry. "How do you know?" he asks. It's not meant to sound so weak and pathetic, but Felicity has a way of seeing through him anyway and thus he doesn't even try to pretend.

She settles beside him, her head on his shoulder.

"We're partners," she answers simply, as if that explains everything.

(Maybe it does.)

That night, he sleeps peacefully for the first time in months.

* * *

"At this rate you're gonna break something," Dig observes.

"Most possibly your fingers," Sara adds dryly.

"Or maybe the equipment, and Felicity won't be too happy with having to replace them again," Roy comments.

Oliver ignores them as he continues to train.

It's been a rough couple of days, and Felicity's in the hospital because of some kind of false contraction or something he doesn't fully comprehend but he knows enough to understand that the pain's real. And he can't be there because she _ordered_ him to leave.

(Thea – _Thea_, of all people – backed her up, and Oliver didn't have a chance against their combined female powers.

The doctors said that Felicity badly needs to rest – it's the last month of her pregnancy – and she can't do that with Oliver hovering like a hawk.

"I'll be fine," she'd said. "Thea will be here to keep me company." Her sister had nodded with a smug grin, and he'd been all but kicked out of the room.

It's annoying.)

"I should be there," he mutters through gritted teeth.

He hears Sara scoff, and he stops what he's doing (killing inanimate objects) to glare at her.

Sara raises her hands in surrender. "Sorry," she says, but she doesn't sound sorry at all. "It's just that with all that," she gestures to him, "going on, I kind of agree with their decision to keep you out."

"What?"

"All rage and stress, bro," Roy pipes up. "Even _I_ know a pregnant woman can't be around those, and I'm pretty clueless about these things."

He looks at Dig for confirmation, and he receives a raised eyebrow.

"Seriously, Oliver? I knew you were oblivious, but this is pushing it."

Oliver just sighs, running a hand over his head. "I don't know, okay? I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know how to act. I'm still processing, and I don't have any idea on how to proceed." He sighs again. "I want to be with her. I have to be with her."

"What you need," Sara starts, "is to release all the pent-up tension in some productive activity. And seriously, what you're doing right now is far from productive."

"Opposite of productive, really," Roy says, eyeing the massacred punching bags and arrowed tennis balls and broken pipes.

Oliver wants to argue but seeing what he's done, he has to admit that he's currently not in a position to do that.

Then Dig lets out a hum of realization, and they turn to look at him, and he asks, "What do you say we paint instead?"

* * *

They did pretty well.

For an assassin, a vigilante, a former army guy and a former street thug, Oliver's kind of amazed that they managed to accomplish something beautiful.

They put together his child's nursery, and he's got to say that it's impressive.

They painted the walls a light green color.

(Roy: Why is it green?

Oliver: I'm the Arrow; what do you expect?

Roy: But I thought you don't know the sex yet.

Oliver: Green's gender-neutral!

Roy: All right, all right. Don't get your hood up in a twist.)

Shelves have been bolted to the walls.

(Oliver: I have to buy some toys or something to put there later.

Sara: Leave that to me.

Oliver: I can –

Sara: No, Ollie, your taste in toys is terrible.)

The crib's built.

(Oliver: Is this supposed to go here, or –

Dig: No, it goes like this.

Oliver: Oh. But the manual says –

Dig: It's in French, and your French is limited to menu items.

Oliver: _Je suis le plus bangable_.

Dig: That's terrible. Don't do that again.)

And when it's done they just stand there and admire their handiwork.

(Dig: Felicity would love this.

Roy: And so would the baby.

Sara: Babies don't exactly have aesthetic sense.

Roy: Right.)

It's been a good day.

They are all resting in the living room, eating Chinese take-out, when he receives the phone call.

He hears Thea's panicked voice from the other end.

He understands enough to get this:

1\. Felicity's in labor.

2\. His baby is coming.

3\. COME HERE.

* * *

They rush to the hospital with all the gusto they reserve for when they're on a mission.

(But well, it's fitting.

This is after all the most important mission of Oliver's life.)

* * *

The baby's not there yet when they arrive, and Oliver breathes a small sigh of relief.

He wants to be present when his baby finally comes into this world.

* * *

His heart is beating so quickly he's wondering why it hasn't exploded yet.

His wife looks so lovely, so wonderful, so pretty as she lies on the hospital bed. Sure, there's a slight sheen of perspiration on her skin, but to Oliver's eyes she's never looked as gorgeous as she does in that moment.

And she's holding their daughter.

He takes one look at the perfect little face and he's in love.

He looks at them – two of the most important women in his life – and warmth he's never felt before settles in his chest.

A smile slowly spreads on his face, and he's not sure why he's been terrified before.

This is the best day ever.

* * *

She asks him to come closer and hold his daughter (his _daughter_!) for the first time.

He sits on the bed, careful not to jostle them.

And when she's in his arms, he almost melts.

"Hello," he greets her, and his voice is thick with emotion. "I'm your dad, and I'm gonna take care of you."

Felicity is looking at him fondly as she says, "Trust him, he's real good at taking care of people."

Oliver looks up at her words, and Felicity just smiles, reaching over to cup his jaw gently. He turns his head, pressing a soft kiss on her palm.

He feels safe and warm and secure, and he vows to do whatever he can to make them feel the same way.

* * *

Thea, Roy, Sara, and Dig come in to meet the newest Queen.

Everyone laughs as Roy awkwardly holds her, but soon he gets the hang of it, and Thea coos at her beside him.

Sara asks Felicity, "What are you naming her?"

Felicity just shrugs, staring at Oliver.

He smiles, kissing his wife on the forehead before saying, "Anastasia." He turns his gaze to his daughter. "She's Anastasia Queen."

* * *

Later they find a nurse who agreed to snap a picture of them: Felicity cradling Anastasia on the bed, Oliver sitting beside them, while the other four stand on the other side.

It's the first complete picture of the family he promised to protect.

Oliver knows it won't be the last.


End file.
